


Happily Forever After

by Starfarer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Cursing (it's Hank after all), Kissing, M/M, Minor allusions to sex, Not my first language and not beta read, Post good ending, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 22:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15156602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starfarer/pseuds/Starfarer
Summary: Things are going a little too fast and Hank is having an identity crisis. He is sure he f*cked up - he's not into androids, and definitely not male ones! But every little caring thing that Connor does is starting to melt his heart. Maybe there is something to this after all! But Connor has a secret that Hank is not prepared for...





	Happily Forever After

”Ah, Jesus Christ. Fuck!”

Hank was staring into the bathroom mirror but his reflection was partially blurred by the condensed mist from the steaming water. Running a hand through his unkempt hair, he then let his palm slide down his face, resting temporarily over his mouth like he was trying to block the curses that were piling up on his tongue.

Who was he even anymore? Just a few months ago, he had used to get behind such opinions as “use your brain, not your android” and “we don’t bleed the same color”. And now? He eyed the indistinct figure in front of him. Memories of last night rushed back. He inhaled quickly.

“Good Lord…”

He needed to get wasted – right now! Problem was it was Sunday and Jimmy’s bar wasn’t open yet. And since Connor moved in there was no alcohol in the whole goddamn house!

 _Not moved in_ , he corrected himself carefully. _It was a temporary arrangement_. The revolution had resulted in the fragile freedom of the androids, but Connor was still officially affiliated with CyberLife. Negotiations were being made to have him signed over to the DPD, in accordance to Connor’s wishes, but like always bureaucracy was a bitch and a half. In the meantime, Hank had agreed to take him in.

_People are fucking insane... They don’t want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android… They cook what you want, they screw when you want, you don’t have to worry about how they feel… Next thing you know, we’re gonna be extinct, because people would rather buy a piece of plastic than love another human being… Beats me._

His words, last November, when they had been investigating deviants at the Eden Club.

Vehemently, he wiped the glass and the imaged cleared. The result did nothing to sooth him: An aged man, run down by bad habits and grief. Regrets, bad luck, mistakes…

Last night…

“What a fucking mistake!” There – he said it! It sounded right. He was waiting for the emotional backlash to vindicate him. He waited. But it didn’t come. He was still in shock, obviously. And what the hell was the time anyway? How long would he have to wait until Jimmy opened?

An aromatic odor mingled with the soap and toothpaste. When the sudden knock came on the door, the lieutenant jumped.

“Hank, breakfast is ready.” The congenial voice brought back another set of memories: Lips brushing his ear, whispers in the dark. Hank had to clear his voice before he could reply.

“Yeah… Coming.”

He turned off the water and finished his morning routine. Before he left the room with its yellow-and-green tiles, he had one sweeping glance in the mirror again. It was completely fogged up.

 

***

 

“What’s this?” Hank looked suspiciously at his plate and turned the green stuff over with a fork.

“It’s vegetable pancakes,” Connor said matter-of-factly. Yet Hank was sure he detected a pleased tone in it. “High in fibers and non-saturated fats, with a low glycemic index.”

Hank grunted. The hell if he knew what that meant other than bad news for his taste buds.

“Well, it looks like shit.”

As soon as he had said that, he regretted it. Connor had been cooking for him all morning without Hank asking for it. He knew he should show a little gratitude. But it was too late to take it back now.

“I know from your past supply specifications that you would have preferred bacon and eggs. But your cholesterol levels are dangerously elevated, so I –“

“You decided to put me on a diet,” Hank finished, chewing while making it seem more of a hassle than it really was – the stuff actually tasted pretty good.

Connor’s brow creased.

“You need to mind your eating habits, lieutenant.”

Hank scoffed. There was a long silence.

“I don’t want you to die, Hank,” Connor said quietly.

Hank looked down at his plate, hunching his shoulders and grumbling something unintelligible. People should just mind their own goddamn business and leave him alone. Everyone’s gotta die of something, right? But there was a little burst of warmth in his chest from the fact that someone gave a fuck about him. That was his soft spot, and how he’d ended up with Sumo all those years ago. His thoughts involuntarily began to drift back to those dark times. 2031. Sumo was just a pup. Two years after… _After nothing_.

“You seem preoccupied.” Connor had joined him at the table but since androids didn’t eat he simply sat there with his hands folded on the cloth. “Is there something on your mind?”

Hank shot a quick glance at the much younger man. Or however age was relevant to an android. He looked even younger without his police uniform, wearing a pair of baggy sweat pants and a washed-out heavy-metal tee of Hank’s. His hair, however, was as neatly arranged as always, with only that one rebellious tuft breaking the perfect hairline over his forehead.

_It wasn’t quite so perfect last –_

“Do you wish to talk about last night?”

Horrified, Hank nearly dropped the fork. It was as if Connor had analyzed his thoughts and read them like the morning newsfeed.

“Hell, no!” he retorted much more avidly than he intended. Then he caught himself. “I’m fine,” he added in a calmer and – he hoped – reassuring voice.

A big, furry Saint Bernard sauntered into the kitchen. The dog sniffed the air with a deep, snorting sound and wagged his plumy tail. Then he walked over and placed a flabby chin in his owner’s lap. Hank patted Sumo with affection.

“I just need a little time, Connor,” he said in a low voice. “Old dogs, you know…” '

He wasn’t sure Connor was familiar with the expression. But he nodded slightly in response and smiled. The android got up from the table and walked into the other room. When he came back he was carrying a basket. Where the heck he’d dug out that thing?

“I was thinking, since it is Sunday… Unless you have other plans, we could all take the ferry to Belle Isle. I’ve taken the liberty to prepare lunch, so we could have a picnic in the park.”

The suggestion took Hank by surprise. He hesitated, searching for an excuse.

“It will be good for Sumo,” Connor said. “He could really use the exercise.”

It was a beautiful day. Sunlight slanted through the window and played in the curtains. Unseasonably warm winds from the south had melted the snow and it felt like spring in the air. Hank couldn’t think of any other plans he’d made for today. And Sumo _had_ eaten a bit too much during the Holidays.

“Alright,” he sighed while repressing a smile. “We’ll go to the park.”

 

***

 

Hank breathed heavily as he stopped at the front door of the house. He was soaked, heart pounding, his throat was dry and his feet were hurting. Connor, of course, came to an effortless halt beside him, not the least tired or disheveled.

“Very good, Hank. That’s a new personal record,” the android informed him cheerily.

Hank grumbled something as he caught his breath, but he couldn’t deny that he was pleased too. Hell if he knew how Connor had talked him into doing these exercise runs, but after only a few weeks he already felt more energetic than ever.

With a freezing hand, Hank rummaged around in his pocket for the key. His colleagues at the station used to tease him about that, especially Gavin. Well, they wouldn’t be laughing when their state-of-the-art security system got hacked and their houses plundered, he thought as he turned the key in the look and opened the door. They were greeted with a single “woff!” from the kitchen. See, he even had a burglar alarm!

Hank let his hair out of the ponytail and pulled off the damp jacket. Connor showed up from the laundry with a pile of towels and handed one over.

“Connor, you don’t have to do that,” Hank said for what must be the hundredth time. “We share the housework around here, remember?”

The android looked over the folded towels that were balanced precariously in his arms. “Yes, Hank. But I don’t mind.”

Then he was off to the hallway. Hank sighed and followed.

“Here, let me.” The lieutenant unloaded half of Connor’s burden and started putting the towels into the cabinets. He glanced at Connor, who was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. They still hadn’t talked about that night in January. Maybe now was the right time. He cleared his throat. But he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing and a towel fell off the shelf where he’d carelessly placed it. Instinctively, he dove for it. So did Connor.

“I’ve got it,” Hank said.

“Oh, okay.”

There was an awkward moment when they were both squatting, each of them pulling on the lavender fabric. Hank got up. Connor followed.

“I should go and take that shower now,” Hank mumbled. But his gaze got caught up in those chestnut-brown eyes that were just a bit too close. Was that kind of perfection also designed to “facilitate the interaction between humans and androids”? Well, they fucked up – Hank was suddenly finding it oddly difficult to function. _Just tell him how you feel, goddammit_!

“Uhm…” Hank began. Connor was looking at him expectantly, brow raised and with a slight, amiable smile on his face.

“I – ”

“– Ah, fuck it!” With a swift move, Hank grabbed the back of Connor’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. For a split second, Connor didn’t react and Hank imagined his LED giving off frantic flashes of yellow, had he not had that thing removed. But in the next moment he felt hands digging into his hair and his back slamming against the cabinet door.

“Jesus Christ,” Hank gasped as they broke for air. His head was spinning, his body going a hundred miles per hour and he felt more alive than he could ever remember.

“Is this just some sneaky part of that exercise routine you’re putting me through?” Hank grinned. Connor smiled, but there was a cheeky edge to his gaze. Seductive. Like fire tempting you to come out and play.

“Hell, I’m gonna ace the health test at the station next week. Should make Jefferson shut the fuck up about ‘wellness program’ and ‘free gym membership’ and all that crap.”

Hank was just about to continue where they had left off, when he felt Connor gently back away. He looked at him in surprise. The playfulness was gone and he wouldn’t meet Hank’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand still brushing Connor’s arm as the other man took another step back.

Connor’s brow creased and he turned around. He started arranging things on a counter and putting away shirts.

“Connor?”

The android stopped.

“I don’t want you to take that test.”

Of all the things Hank could have anticipated, this was not one of them.

“What?” he asked, half astonished, half amused. “Why not?”

Connor didn’t answer at once. Instead he resumed to tidy the counter with deliberately slow motions. When he finally looked back at Hank, his expression was somber.

“If you do,” he said blankly, “they will discover nano-droids in your blood. And I will be arrested for infiltration and grand theft.”

Ignoring Hank’s speechless reaction, Connor continued.

“Do you know anything about the National Life Extension Institute? It’s a privately-funded company that has been working to develop microscopic machines to eradicate a number of severe illnesses and physical degeneration caused by aging. There was an article in Tech Addict about it a while ago. According to Derek Ross, the head of the institute, there is no perfected product to go on the market yet.” Connor paused. When he continued, his voice seemed to have gotten smaller. “Officially, that is. But I…I hacked their computer system –“

“You did what?!”

“ – And found out that they have had a prototype ready for years. Tests had been conducted on human subjects with astounding results. There will soon be a public statement to deny the stated breakthroughs – orders from the top: The government fears that the nano-droids would create havoc with the world’s economy and demographic structure.”

Connor looked down at his hands, which he had folded into a tight knot.

“As you know, I’ve been having some dealings with CyberLife lately, with my transfer to the Detroit Police District. Well, that’s the excuse I used, anyway.”

At this point, Hank couldn’t even think of anything to say. He just stood there, holding his breath and waiting for what was to come.

“I went to see Kamski, to ask him for a…personal favor. I figured he owed me one, after the revolution and all. Anyway, he used his influence and got me into the Institute. Long story short, I stole a few shots of the nano-droids. I then injected a sample into your blood.”

A million thoughts rushed through Hank’s mind, and he felt like he was falling through a void that had opened up inside of him. His body – his entire being – was invaded by little robotic machines! Unconsciously, he started to scratch his hands and arms. Was he even human anymore? His breathing deepened and a rushing sound filled his ears.

“...no heart disease, cancer, diabetes.” Connor’s voice sounded eager, almost desperate.

“What have you – ?”

“…also arrest the aging process. Life expectancy is determined solely by external risk factors…”

“What the hell have you _done_?!” Hank roared.

The android quieted. Hank was staring at him like an enraged bear, with wild eyes and bared teeth. He looked like he was about to charge, but instead he just staggered a few steps. Instinctively, Connor moved forward to steady him. Hank made a violent motion with his arm to warn him off.

“I just wanted to help.” The words were small and pitiful.

“I don’t want your help!” Hank was shaking with anger. He jabbed an index finger at Connor like a crooked dagger. “You’re trying to turn me into you, into a fucking machine!” The accusation sounded ridiculous even to Hank, but he didn’t care. He wanted to toss around blame like empty beer bottles.

“You should have _asked_!” he rumbled.

Connor looked down at his feet.

“I was afraid you’d say no.”

“Damn right I would have!” The words spattered out of Hank’s mouth. He made to say something more, but then he snatched his coat off the hanger and yanked the door open.

“You should have asked!” he repeated before he barged through the door and slammed it shut behind.

Connor stood still in the deafening silence, wondering how everything had gone so terribly wrong.

 

***

 

He had not been here in a while. Not since October 11, on the annual commemoration of that black day:

Cole Anderson,

2029-2035

Hank’s fingertips traced the rough texture of the stone. A light flickered mesmerizingly with a warm glow beneath the letters. All around him, the graveyard was empty and there was just the wind ruffling the barren branches of the trees. For six years, he had come here, lit a candle and left a gift. The gift would always disappear. Maybe it got snatched up by one of the homeless people that drifted around the area. But Hank didn’t care. He just hoped that some kid got to enjoy it in the end.

This year had been different. Connor had moved in at the beginning of December and everything had been crazy at the police station after the android revolution. Christmas came out of nowhere. For some reason, Connor had made the effort to study human holiday traditions. He even got a fucking tree and they both ended up decorating it, with Sumo entangled in the Christmas lights. Hank’s personal tradition to visit the graveyard and then go home and open a bottle of scotch had been broken.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Son. But Merry Christmas!”

Kneeling, he carefully placed a kid’s pirate ship next to the stone. In his mind, Cole was always six years old. It had snowed earlier this morning, and the little boat seemed to break boldly through white waves.

When he heard footsteps behind him, Hank didn’t turn around. They stopped.

“How did you know where to find me?” he asked finally, still looking at the grave. “Did you put a tracking device on me too?”

“No. I searched all the bars within walking distance from the house. Then I checked the local vendors. Gary at the Chicken Feed says hello, by the way. I even talked to Pedro, your…uhm, wagering consultant, but he hadn’t seen you either. Finally, I called the station in case you might be there. Coming here was my last hope. I didn’t know where else to look.”

Hank grunted and gave a small nod. Connor must have busted his ass to find him and that gave him some satisfaction.

There was a moment of silence. A car honked in the distance, a dog barked. Hank kept starring at the dancing flame of the candle.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “You’re right, I should have asked. But I…” His voice trailed off. He started over:

“Human life expectancy is currently 91 years. I know you’re just 53, but you haven’t really been taking good care of yourself. And even healthy people can contract fatal illnesses. Androids do not age. They can have parts replaced and even get upgraded. 40 years may seem like a long time to you, but it’s not much to an android.”

“Connor …”

“Like Markus once told me: ‘humans are fragile machines’. But then I found a fix for that…”

“Connor, you’ll be okay. One day, when I’m not here, you’ll know what to do. You don’t need me to be your mentor forever,” Hank said.

“But…” Connor’s voice rose a pitch. “I’ll still need you! What good is that day if you’re not there to share it with me?”

“There will be others. You won’t be alone.”

“I don’t want others!” His voice was almost a scream. “I want you!”

_Damn. Right in the soft spot._

“You said once,” Connor continued a bit more calmly, “that you drink to kill yourself a little every day. Why are you so determined to die?”

Slowly, Hank got up from his kneeling position and turned around to face Connor for the first time. The android looked away. Hank thought he might have seen a reflection on his cheek. That surprised him. He’d never seen Connor cry before.

“Every day for the past six years, I’ve been counting down until… Until the time would come when maybe I would see Cole again. I don’t know if androids believe in Heaven. Hell, I don’t know if I do either. But if there is even a remote chance…”

Connor just stood there, looking down at the ground, with his hands tucked deeply into the pockets of an oversized parka of Hank’s.

“But I guess Heaven isn’t going anywhere. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time I started living instead.”

Hank smiled and Connor looked up in surprise.

“Before I came here,” Hank said, “I had a thing done.” He reached into a pocket of the coat and held out something.

“I figured you should have one of your own. Now that it’s your home too.”

Connor starred at the antique-looking door key in his hand. He blinked. Another tear rolled down his face. Hank took a step forward and without ado he pulled Connor into a hug. The android’s arms closed tightly around him and he buried his face on Hank’s shoulder. Hank inclined his head to enfold him until they felt like one. Human and machine. Maybe now that’s what he was too. But he didn’t care.

As they started to walk home, Hank asked:

“What happened to the other shot?”

“What?”

“You said ‘shots’. You stole more than one sample of nano-droids.”

Connor nodded. “Kamski took it. It was part of the deal for helping me to infiltrate the Institute.”

Hank’s eyebrows drew together.

“You made a deal with the devil,” he commented thoughtfully. “I wonder what the consequences will be?”

They left the graveyard and Hank closed the gate. It had begun to snow and large, white flakes drifted through the air. As they walked along the glistening street, Hank wrapped an arm around Connor’s back. Their tracks joined and mingled.

“There were three.”

“Huh?” Hank was gently pulled from his reverie.

“There were three samples. I stole three of them. You got one, Kamski got one…”

“Who got the last sample?” Worry hardened the lines on Hank’s face.

Connor smiled. It was the most human smile Hank had ever seen.

“Sumo.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I do - I bestow immortality on characters I love. I didn't want to "fix" Hank or his age because he is fine the way he is. But I do want him and Connor to be together for a long, long time. So I knew I had to write a DBH fanfic when I spotted this in the game:
> 
> http://detroit-become-human.wikia.com/wiki/The_First_Immortals_Are_Among_Us


End file.
